My nephew, Brandon, said something the other day that jarred
me.
When asked why he threw the Frisbee in the pool only to watch it
float to the bottom, he answered,
”
No reason. Just because.
”
Huh?
My nephew, Brandon, said something the other day that jarred me.
When asked why he threw the Frisbee in the pool only to watch it float to the bottom, he answered, “No reason. Just because.”
Huh?
I can’t remember the last time I did something just because … well, just because.
I’m not even sure I remember how or what exactly that means.
From the time I wake up to the time my head touches the pillow, virtually every action, every movement, heck, every gesture, has a purpose.
From wiping up crusty baby cereal to teaching Emma how to patty-cake, I try to make every millisecond count for something.
In our house, I’m often a whirlwind of activity, picking up this, wiping that, rarely stopping, leaving a freshly diapered baby and clean room in my wake. I even map out routes around town, making sure to carve out the most efficient one so I don’t waste a moment idling.
Sure, I take little breaks here and there, but even then practicality reigns. I’ll generally spend my snippets of time folding a pile of laundry over nail polishing or magazine flipping.
I have to take a lesson from my nephew and throw the Frisbee once in a while – figuratively speaking.
I used to be more cavalier with my time. During college, my roommates referred to my room as the “sleep cave.”
It wasn’t my fault my room had a single tiny window. But I took complete advantage of the sunless space, often sleeping until noon if I felt like it. It never occurred to me that I had to have a reason.
On lazy Saturday afternoons, my husband (then-boyfriend), Chris, and I took long drives, letting the day take us where it wanted.
In the evenings, we’d stay up late reflecting on our day and planning our next adventure.
Then came graduation and a job and suddenly sleeping didn’t seem so important. Why sleep when I have bills to pay and errands to run and coffee to drink?
Then came marriage and a mortgage and suddenly long drives didn’t seem so important. Why coast when we have a lawn to mow and floors to clean and dinner to make?
Then came our daughter and suddenly staying up late didn’t seem so important. Why reflect when we have e-mail to answer and shirts to iron and baby food to make?
Don’t get me wrong – my life isn’t only these things. But on some days it certainly feels like the minutiae of life rules how I spend my hours.
Sometimes I fool myself into thinking that if I carve out time from one day I can move it to another. Kind of like banking time.
But like money, it all ends up in the same pot eventually. It just depends on how you spend it.
If given a 25th hour in my day, leave it to me to spend it doing something good for me instead of doing something just for the fun of it.
Now I’m not knocking eating your Brussels sprouts and watching public television.
But there is a lot to be said for doing something just because the moon is full and the tides are rising, and gosh darn it, you just feel like it.
It doesn’t make you smarter or richer or funnier or more attractive. And that’s the appeal. It’s just because.
For no reason.
Logic is suspended. Time, however, will march on. But I can make it my own.
I just have to remember how to do that without it involving a sippy cup or diaper bag.
